THE AMERICAN
man started; he had not thought of Valentin and his errand on the Swiss frontier since the morning. The reflexion made him restless again, and he broke away on a promise that his hostess should have with out delay his next news. He went straight to his apartment, where, on the table in the vestibule, he found a waiting telegram. "I'm seriously ill and should be glad to see you as soon as possible.—Valentin." He had a savage groan for this miserable news and for the interruption of his journey to Fleurières. But he addressed to Madame de Cintré a brief, the briefest, statement of these things; it formed a response as well to the ten words of the note that had come to him by Mrs. Bread, and was now all the time allowed him.
"I don't give you up and don't really believe you speak your own intention. I don't understand it, but am sure we shall clear it up together. I can't follow you to-day, as I'm called to see a friend at a distance who's very ill, perhaps dying. Why should n't I tell you he's your brother?—C. N."
